


Hearts and Wrists Intact

by ZoeWiloh



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Cutting, Dark, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Low Self-Esteem, Misunderstandings, Questionable medical facts, Self-Harm, Verbal Abuse, pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-01-24 04:23:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18563854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoeWiloh/pseuds/ZoeWiloh
Summary: Prompto's mysterious barcode has haunted him all his life, and he just can't take it anymore. While he's trying to finally do something about it, Ignis arrives and upon seeing Prompto's bloody wrist, jumps to the wrong conclusion.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! Just a few notes before we begin:
> 
> 1\. Huge trigger warning for self-harm. I don't go into a ton of detail about the physical appearance of wounds or anything but I do dive a lot into the feelings, thought process, and resulting emotions in reference to it. Please be safe, I'd hate to think something I wrote affected anyone negatively. 
> 
> 2\. I changed a couple things for the purpose of this fic. I've always believed Prom's parents aren't abusive and just suck at being there for him, but this goes more on the abusive side. I also moved his barcode from the back of his wrist to the inside because reasons. Also I don't stand behind any of the medical stuff in this fic. A few things are based off vague knowledge I had already but the rest is assumptions and hand waving because I couldn't bring myself to do the actual research on how to do this to yourself. 
> 
> 3\. I just want to state again, warning for self-harm. As someone who has struggled with it before and still has urges despite tons of treatment, I want to say there's help out there and people who very much care. Please take care of yourself and don't read this if you think it will trigger you. Stay strong. No fanfic is worth your health.

Prompto’s feelings on his barcode used to be mixed. As a child, he’d thought it was neat, something that made him unique -- in a good way. He had never fit in among his peers especially well; between his larger size and his general awkwardness, he knew he was different. People made that abundantly clear for him. So he tried to embrace that weirdness. It made being alone more tolerable, made him feel like he still had some slight amount of control if he told himself he was at peace with being different. Pretending to love himself was never something he excelled in, but he tried, he really did. 

But as he grew older, those feelings soured. The long lengths of time alone became harder to bear and instead of feeling special, he felt freakish. It probably would have helped if he knew where it came from, what it  _ meant _ about him. It was a mystery that ate at him on good days and absolutely paralyzed him on the bad ones. He had asked his parents again and again what it was, and he wasn’t sure if they didn’t know or were simply refusing to explain. Until recently.

Last week, he had once again asked his mother during one of her short stops at home. It hadn’t gone well. Apparently, she was as sick of being asked about it as he was of not knowing the truth. He wasn’t close to his parents, years of being left to fend for himself had seen to that. But he cared about them and he’d thought it was mutual. 

He knew now he was wrong. Her response had been brutal. She had told him she didn’t know what he was -- not  _ who,  _ but  _ what  _ \-- and she didn’t want to know, because she didn’t want to know what kind of abomination she’d taken into her home. All she revealed was that he had been born in Niflheim and despite her best efforts, she was never able to really love him like she would her own flesh and blood...or any other child in the world she could have adopted instead. She’d even told him that he was lucky they were never home, because if they didn’t have to be away so often they would have kicked him to the curb years ago. Kicking him when he was down, she added that he should be thankful that, out of the goodness of their hearts, they had even continued to pay for his food and necessities despite already providing him with a roof over his head.

It was almost like he felt the way something within him broke at her words. He wouldn’t have been able to carry on if not for Noctis, not that Noctis could ever know about any of this. If his parents, who had adopted him and cared for him since he was a baby, couldn’t love him, how could anyone? What hope was there that he’d be able to hold onto his only friend when he could hardly believe Noct was willing to be seen with him before taking this into account? No, no one could know. It was starting to feel like shame was all he was, like he was just a walking billboard for disappointment. After all, if he wasn’t human, maybe he really was just a blemish on humanity masquerading as a person. All his life, people had been able to clearly see how unwanted he was -- they tried to tell him as much with their actions -- yet it was only just now dawning on him how very unwelcome he was even in his own home. He hated himself for being so blind. 

So he made a plan. He pretended everything was fine whenever he had to be around other people and waited for the day he had the house to himself again. With his parents’ schedules it wasn’t like he had to wait for long, but it still felt like the longest four days he’d ever lived. 

Apart from that, he gathered what he needed as stealthily as he could. The money from his parents barely covered his existing expenses; sometimes it actually didn’t and he was left scrambling to find a way to pay for basics. He didn’t have the cash to spend on supplies, so he obtained them other ways. He wasn’t sure what kind of knife would be best, so he managed to sneak a few from Noct’s kitchen. Between those and the ones already in his own kitchen, surely something would fit his needs. Next, he had to worry about first aid supplies. Thanks to the insane levels of preparation Ignis always went to in all things, the kit under Noct’s sink was even better stocked than he’d hoped, and he was able to grab all the gauze, disinfectant, and bandages he could need. Unfortunately, Ignis kept the good painkillers under lock and key; even Noct wouldn’t know where they were hidden. But he hadn’t expected to get that lucky anyway, he would be able to get by without somehow.

Next was some research. That included not only what he planned to do but how to care for it afterward. He had already decided on cutting rather than burning, but now he needed to make sure he didn’t screw himself up more than he intended to. He just wanted to slice the skin of the barcode away, not accidentally cut in the wrong place and bleed out. As much as he’d considered that route occasionally over the years, he wouldn’t leave Noctis. He’d waited all his life for a friend like this and now he’d discovered it was all he had hoped it would be and more. Some power greater than himself had finally granted his dearest wish, and he wouldn’t just throw that away like it was nothing. He couldn’t spit in the face of the only deity that had ever sent any sort of comfort his way. Besides, he’d promised Lady Lunafreya. Ending his life was not an option, ever. He’d have to take a different desperate approach to his problems. 

So all that led to this moment, sitting on the floor of his kitchen with his supplies scattered around him. From what he could gather from his research, a scalpel would have been best for what he wanted to do, but as that wasn’t an option, he’d picked the closest thing among what he had access to. The bandages stood at the ready, along with numerous towels waiting to clean up the resulting mess. 

Yet, after all that careful preparation, he found himself hesitating. Many people were sickened by the sight of blood and while he couldn’t be sure yet if he was one of them, it sure seemed more than likely based on what he knew about himself. But he knew that was only part of the issue. Deep down, he didn’t know how he’d feel when it was all said and done. Obviously, he hoped it would be a weight off his shoulders, some sort of burden lifted away when he didn’t have to live with the offending brand. But would it really? Would mutilating himself really fix anything? Would being free of that little patch of skin that he usually kept hidden anyway really change anything about him? It wouldn’t make people treat him any better and it was wishful thinking at best to think he’d be a different person. It would only be symbolic, and was that enough to make it worth it?

Just as he was beginning to reconsider, his phone rang from the counter above him. He thought about answering it but couldn’t decide. Paralyzed by the choice, he sat until the ringing stopped. A ding indicating a voicemail sounded, along with another to alert him to a text not long after. Two more texts arrived before he managed to breathe fully and move to set about his task. 

His eyes were set on the knife in front of him as he rolled the handle between his palms, then passed it back and forth from hand to hand several times. With a thick swallow, he blindly felt around the counter above him, grabbing his phone. Barely paying attention, he checked the texts. There were two from Noctis and one from Ignis. He didn’t bother reading them, he was suddenly ready to begin and he couldn’t let anything slow him down in case he lost his nerve again.

He placed the tip of the knife next to the corner of the barcode. After only a moment’s hesitation, he dug the knife in, drawing blood immediately. Even he was surprised how much he was able to swallow the cry that resulted. Out of morbid curiosity, he pushed the knife in deeper to test his limits. All his life he’d felt inferior and standing next to Gladio so often in recent years had done nothing to help. He suddenly felt the need to prove himself, prove that he was tougher than he seemed. There was no one around to witness whatever he managed to do, but he couldn’t help himself. As he watched the knife slide deeper by a hairsbreadth at a time, he somehow felt stronger, as if he suddenly had the strength to take on the whole world. It was a kind of power he’d never known before and the rush made him a bit light headed.

Withdrawing the knife slightly, he angled it to drag it horizontally across the top edge of the tattoo. From his research, he’d learned that while none of what he was trying to do was especially “safe”, cutting in this direction was much less dangerous. Most people slitting their wrists sliced down the length of the arm, so if he only cut across his wrist this way and down at the edges off-center, he should be fine. It would be a mess to be sure, but it was unlikely to be truly risky as far as blood loss was concerned. 

He was nearly done with the first of the longer sides when he noticed how much blood there was. It was a lot. He felt another surge of power mixed with pride that he was handling it so well. He never would have guessed he would be capable of keeping his cool in the face of so much blood and pain. Never before had he felt so unstoppable, the feeling was exhilarating. He kept waiting for more familiar emotions to strike him like a bus, surely any moment his brain would register the abundance of blood running down his arm and his usual panic and ineptitude would set in. 

...But it never came. A little part of him realized that he was losing track of his goal, that he had never meant to derive anything from this but ridding himself of that damned barcode that would continue to haunt him for life if he didn’t take action. 

Before he could stop it, a small laugh escaped him.  _ Take action. _ That was hardly like him, was it? He had never been the  _ taking action _ type. He always believed he was more the  _ taking cover _ type, but he’d never been in a situation to find out. 

Just as he was beginning to glide the knife back down towards himself along the third side of the code, he heard a sound approaching his front door. The panic he had been waiting for hit him suddenly, but for different reasons than he anticipated. For a moment he wondered if his parents had come home and the idea was so ironic that he laughed a bit. Of all the times for his parents to come home and catch him by surprise. The laugh died when he realized they would probably be more worried about the mess than they would be about him. That stung.

The panic and adrenaline triggered something in his mind, and he reached to his phone again to read the messages he neglected earlier. The first from Noctis was a terrible joke, and he rolled his eyes at his best friend’s timing. The next one said that Ignis was dropping by to pick something up.  _ Shit.  _ The last one, from Ignis, said he was waiting outside in the car and requested that Prompto please bring it out to him because he was in a hurry. That was just over four minutes ago.  _ Shit again.  _

There was a sharp knock on the door that startled him far more than it should have, causing him to let out a loud yelp. The knocking paused and he heard Ignis call out, “Prompto? Is everything alright?” 

All Prompto could think was,  _ no no no no,  _ over and over on loop in his mind. This could not be happening. He remained frozen on the floor and suddenly the blood he’d been so proud of was horrific, just a flashing neon sign reminding him of all the trouble he was going to be in. 

“Prompto? I am in quite a hurry, if you could please come to the door so I can be on my way,” Ignis said. Prompto could hear the frustration quickly starting to outweigh the concern in his tone. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad for him.  _ Bad,  _ he decided,  _ definitely bad.  _ Since when was anything that happened to him  _ good? _

“Y-yeah, hold on,” he called out. His brain was scrambled and it never occurred to him that he had no idea what Ignis was there to pick up from him. He also never thought to wipe off his arm, only realizing at the last moment, so he hid his arm and half his body behind the door as he opened it as little as he could. “Hi?”

“Hello,” Ignis greeted shortly. “Do you have it?”

“Have what?” Prompto asked dumbly. 

Ignis pressed his lips together, sighed deeply, and fought against rolling his eyes. “Noctis didn’t say, only that you’d know what he was talking about.”  _ Great, thanks, Noct.  _ Prompto wasn’t sure how to respond. Maybe if he’d been thinking clearer he would remember what on Eos Noct had sent Ignis over for. 

Lost in thought, he didn’t recognize the suspicious look Ignis had as he looked closer at the younger boy before him. Something wasn’t right here, Ignis could tell. He had a sixth sense for things like this and all the alarms he possessed were sounding. Carefully, he reached out to push the door further open. It was alarming that Prompto didn’t even seem to notice the movement, and that was when Ignis realized Prompto’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut. 

He pushed the door further open and gasped loudly when he saw what Prompto had been trying to hide behind the door. There was blood running all over his forearm and now tracking down his fingers to leave drops of red on the floor. Prompto’s eyes snapped open at the sound of him and he gasped himself. Prompto jumped back and tried to slam the door closed, but Ignis firmly placed his foot to block the way as he continued to try pushing the door closed. 

“I don’t know what Noct wants,” Prompto said desperately. “Please just go.”

“You know very well I cannot do that,” Ignis replied as he shifted his weight to force it all against the door. 

Despite putting all he had into shutting Ignis out, he was no match for Ignis’ strength when he was so determined to help someone Noct cared about. A bitter part of him noted how little strength he actually had, even after all he’d just done. He was forced to jump back from the door as Ignis strong-armed his way into his home. 

Ignis reached out to snatch Prompto’s arm away from him, but Prompto moved faster than he knew he could to dodge away, wrapping his other hand around his bleeding wrist to hide the wound. It was pointless; the evidence covered his entire arm and much of his shirt, but he still felt the need to cover the barcode. Ignis continued toward him slowly while he kept backing away until his back slammed against a wall. “Isn’t this illegal or something?” Prompto whimpered desperately. “I want you to leave. Please leave.”

“If you truly wish for me to leave I will,” Ignis said before a pause. Prompto perked up at his words, maybe they could just forget about this whole thing. But he wilted again when Ignis finished, “but I will be forced to call emergency services.”

“You can’t!" he begged in a panicked tone. No one else could know about this. Not just the injury, but also the horrible code he was trying to rid himself of. He wasn’t finished yet, the code was still there on him and anyone who looked at the wound would be able to clearly see his darkest secret. 

“I assure you I can and I will,” Ignis replied, smooth and resolute. 

Prompto let out a small whine. “Look, I have this under control, I was almost done-”

_ “Done? _ Done what? Taking your life?”

“What? No, no, nothing like that!”

Ignis fixed him with a dead-eyed, skeptical look. “Forgive my bluntness, but what else is this supposed to be?”

“Just something I needed to do,” he answered quietly, keeping his gaze on his shoes. 

The older boy reached out again, trying to get a better look at the still-bleeding injury, but Prompto pulled himself back again, angling his arms away from his prying eyes. He went to grab his wrist again to wrench it away from the wound but Prompto held fast, refusing to let go, digging his nails into his skin so deep that it was probably drawing even more blood.

Ignis took a step back and held up his hands in surrender. “Would you prefer I take you to a public hospital or the medical wing at the Citadel? We need to get that looked at.”

“I’d rather take care of it myself,” Prompto whispered hopelessly. 

“I think we’ve already established that is not one of your options. Pick one or I will.”

Prompto sighed, suddenly frustrated and almost indignant. “You can’t  _ make _ me go anywhere, Ignis. You’re in charge of Noct, not me. Leave. Just let me take care of this, it’s not a big deal.”

“Self-harm is always a big deal. As is a suicide attempt.”

“That...that’s...that’s not what this is!”

“You expect me to believe you accidentally slit your wrist but are refusing medical treatment?”

He was about to deny that as well, but he could hardly argue. It may not have been a traditional instance of self-harm but he  _ had _ done it to himself. And he’d _ enjoyed _ it. He couldn’t remain in denial that he certainly needed help, but not like this. This wasn’t what he wanted. He couldn’t let anyone see what he was trying to cut off himself. It was too shameful. He was so close to being free of that horrible marking and being able to move on with his life, but now everything he knew and hoped was crashing down around him. Tears started silently streaming down his cheeks. 

When he didn’t answer, Ignis reached for him again, but instead of trying to get a look at the cut again, he put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. Prompto seemed wary of him but didn’t pull away this time, so he led him out the door and into his car, preparing to take him to the Citadel. He couldn’t let him pretend this didn’t happen, Noct would never forgive him if Ignis knew and let something happen to Prompto. But he could at least give him as much privacy as possible. It was the best he could offer. 

 

\--

 

Noctis was in training with Gladio when he heard his phone ring across the room for the fourth time in the last few minutes. His sparring partner took advantage of his distraction and knocked him to the mats. 

“C’mon, Princess! You can do better than this! Pay attention!” Gladio shouted in frustration as Noct pulled himself to his feet. 

“What if it’s important?” he asked defiantly, pointing at his phone. 

_ “This  _ is important. We’re almost to our break, your weird friend can wait. Focus!”

Noct was about to argue when Gladio struck again and stole back his attention forcefully. The next fifteen minutes flew by with his focus so engaged and all thoughts of his phone slipped from his head. When it was finally break time, he wandered over to where he left his things, reaching for the bottle of water and drinking greedily. His breaks during training never seemed to last as long as his body wanted and he dropped to the floor, still panting. 

His mind was brought out of its haze when his phone rang again. “Sorry I missed your calls, Specs. Gladio’s an asshole,” he said flippantly before his Advisor could get a word out. “What’s up?” 

It was a bizarre feeling to go from his heart pounding from exercise to seemingly stopping entirely. He struggled to swallow but his mouth was suddenly dry despite all he’d just drank. “W-what?” he asked in a quiet, broken voice. He had heard Ignis just fine, but he couldn’t believe the words. He couldn’t be serious, this had to be some sick attempt at a joke. But Ignis wasn’t the joking type. “Where is he?”

Before he could think, he leapt up and sprinted towards the door. Gladio caught him by the wrist, saying something about training, but he shook him loose and continued running. He was halfway down the hall when Gladio caught up again, shoving him roughly to the wall and holding him there by a shoulder. 

“What’s the big idea? In case you forgot, this is only halftime, Princess.”

Noct glared at his Shield through tears starting to leak from his eyes. “Somewhere else I need to be,” he growled. Gladio looked thoroughly unimpressed. Noct threw his hand off his shoulder and stepped forward threateningly before spitting at him, “That was Ignis. Prompto tried to kill himself. Training will have to wait. If you’ve got a problem with that I suggest you get over it.” 

With that, he stormed off toward the medical wing with more purpose than he’d ever felt in his life. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! First, I want to thank everyone for all the love, especially the comments. They mean so much to me for anything I write but especially something as personal and emotional as this. 
> 
> Next, wanted to let you know this is going to be longer than I suspected at first. At least one more chapter to wrap it up. Hopefully that's a good thing? I know this chapter jumps around a bit but I think most of it is pretty clear and please let me know if you feel it isn't. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy and please leave a comment if you have the time, they really make my day.

Noct was a man on a mission. Between all the exertion and panic his heart felt like it might burst. Gladio was following and calling out something behind him, but he didn’t bother trying to make out the words. It would be either an order to get back to training or an apology for his earlier words and he wasn’t particularly interested in hearing either one. 

After what felt like far too long, he skidded to a stop at the entrance to the hospital wing where Ignis was waiting for him. “Where?” he asked simply. 

Ignis’ face was as unreadable as ever, but Noct was getting the terrible feeling something was wrong. “Noct, he-,” Ignis began before hesitating for a moment. 

Noct’s heart sank as he struggled to remember how to breathe. Prom had to be okay, right? He refused to believe anything else. “He what?”

“He does not wish to see you.”

It was a punch to the gut. True, it was better than what he had started to fear -- he had been starting to worry he was too late -- but it hurt nonetheless. Why wouldn’t Prompto want to see him? It left him confused and more than a bit heartbroken. Not only had his best friend just tried to end his life, but he didn’t want him there by his side now? Didn’t he know Noct would do anything for him? 

“But...I need to see him,” Noct replied softly, embarrassingly close to tears. He couldn’t just sit out here while his friend was suffering so much. The idea made his chest hurt even more than the knowledge that Prompto did something like this in the first place. 

“He did not exactly come with me willingly. If he wants privacy during this time perhaps we should let him have it.”

Noct opened his mouth to argue but no words came. Maybe Prompto didn’t want him there because Noct hadn’t even noticed the signs. Maybe he wasn’t as good at being a friend to Prompto as Prompto was to him. How blind must he have been to have had no clue his friend was in so much pain? He supposed that if someone he considered his closest friend knew so little about him, he wouldn’t feel the need to keep them close during a crisis either.

Still, he wanted so badly to be able to comfort his friend. He couldn’t just  _ not _ help. But if Prompto didn’t want him there, would his presence really be helping? As much as it hurt to think he wasn’t wanted, he couldn’t force Prompto to want him there. The least he could do is honor his wishes. No matter how much that gnawed at his heart. 

“So...what do I do?” he asked softly. 

“I would think there’s no harm in waiting for him out here,” Ignis suggested kindly, reaching a hand out to rest comfortingly on his shoulder.

Noct blinked several times and nodded resolutely, moving to sit on a nearby bench. If he wasn’t welcome now, he’d wait until he was -- no matter how long that took. 

 

\--

 

Prompto was so anxious he was literally shaking. He had shut his brain off in the car and let Ignis lead him to the private medical wing of the Citadel, but he had frozen with renewed terror when he remembered that treatment would require letting another person see his barcode. The only words he could bring himself to say to Ignis were a plea to not let Noct see him like this. His fight or flight instinct was being activated and if he thought he’d be capable of finding his way out of the confusing maze of halls he’d been led through, he would have picked flight in a heartbeat. 

Ignis had introduced him to the nurse currently on duty, Selyn, who led him to an examination room. Something about the sterile medical environment made his skin crawl and he sat with his shoulders hunched in on himself on the exam table. She kindly asked him if she could take a preliminary look at his wound before fetching a doctor. Her tone had been so gentle it almost made him reconsider, but he couldn’t bear the idea. 

“Hon, I’m going to need to see it,” Selyn repeated, pointing to the way he was still tightly covering the bloody wrist with his other hand. She didn’t understand his apprehension, and she must have assumed it was a general fear of hospitals -- because why would she suspect anything else? -- and tried to reassure him, “Don’t worry, you’re in good hands here. You’ve got a lot of blood on you but since you haven’t passed out yet, you probably aren’t in any danger. We just want to help clean you up and make sure everything’s alright.”

“And then what?” he asked warily. He was regretting letting Ignis bring him here. He should have fought harder instead of just giving in like the wimp he was. Just another thing to add to the list of traits he hated himself for. 

“We’re here to help however you want. We aren’t equipped to help you with ongoing therapy or anything like that, but we could help arrange it elsewhere no problem. Since we aren’t tied to a public health institution we can’t force you into treatment, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Ugh, no, he hadn’t even thought of that. Maybe it was a good thing Ignis had brought him here instead of a regular hospital after all. If he ended up hospitalized for any mental reason he’d probably never leave. Between his myriad of problems, questionable history, and how happy his parents would be to be rid of him, he’d never get see the sky again. 

Before he realized the words were leaving his mouth, he found himself saying, “I’d really like to just go home.”

She sighed and looked at him with pity. He didn’t like that, but it was better than the contempt his mother had looked at him with, so he pushed it to the back of his mind. “Technically, I can’t make you stay, but I have a feeling Mr. Scientia would have an opinion about that.” 

For a second he considered getting up and walking out the door but he knew she was right; Ignis would have no qualms about forcefully dragging him back. His back was against the wall and he was starting to panic in earnest. He could feel his chest tightening, his lungs struggling to fill properly. Pulling his hands close to his chest, he bent over further and began to rock in place. Sweat was starting to mix with the blood on his arm, making the skin feel foreign, like it didn’t even belong to him. For a moment he wasn’t sure if he was actually dying and he wondered if that would be almost preferable at this point. 

“Sweetie, you’re having a panic attack. Don’t be scared. Try to breathe like I am, follow my rhythm.” She made a show of breathing slow and deep, but he couldn’t make his lungs imitate her example. He shook his head hysterically, his gasping getting worse. She pushed him back to keep him from falling forward off the table, then ran to the door and leaned out into the hall, calling for a doctor. 

Prompto tried to hold onto reality, desperate not to lose what little control he still had over the situation. The last thing he was aware of was a panicked but familiar voice in the hallway as a doctor rushed into the room. 

 

\--

 

Noct was having a hard time occupying himself while he waited. At first he pulled out his phone, but everything reminded him of Prompto. He had to force himself not to open his texts and analyze everything his friend had ever sent him, searching for the signs he’d missed. King’s Knight had Prompto written all over it, and when he opened his internet browser, the tab he had open was a theatre schedule for a movie he and Prompto were planning to see together this weekend. His mind ran away from him, wondering if Prompto had made those plans believing he wouldn’t be there to go with him. The thought made him sick, and he only barely managed to keep himself from chucking his phone across the hall. 

Roughly shoving his phone back into his pocket, he leaned forward with his head in his hands. A few tears managed to sneak out of his eyes and he fought to keep his composure. He felt a hand land on his shoulder and by the size he quickly realized it must be Gladio’s. Instantly stiffening, he leaned away and shrugged him off. If he were being honest with himself, he desperately needed the comfort, but he wasn’t interested in getting it from him. 

Gladio’s words in the gym echoed in his head.  _ Your weird friend can wait.  _ He knew it was unfair to hold his words against him; Gladio often said things he didn’t truly mean in the moment, and he hadn’t meant to be hurtful. But the idea that he could have been so very wrong about that -- that Prompto definitely couldn’t wait this time -- haunted him. What if he’d listened to his Shield and ignored his phone? What if he hadn’t answered the call from Ignis just then and had later gotten the only news that was worse than a best friend’s suicide  _ attempt? _ He knew it wasn’t right to be mad at Gladio over something that hadn’t actually happened, but his whole world felt so incredibly fragile right now and thinking reasonably just wasn’t in the cards at the moment. With a deep breath, he muttered an apology, muffled by his hands. 

Everything he tried to distract himself with led his thoughts in a circle back to Prompto. Thinking of school made him think of the classes they shared. Thinking of training brought to mind the call he’d just gotten that was destroying him from the inside out. Thinking of the most relaxing nature he could picture, he was reminded of all the time he and Prompto spent at the park and all the photos Prom had taken. It only made him realize how integral Prompto was to every aspect of his life, causing the pain in his chest to worsen at the thought of losing his best friend. 

Just as he was considering trying to sleep to pass the time, the door to an exam room opened. A nurse -- part of his mind remembered her name was Selyn -- was standing there with a strange look on her face. Understanding dawned on him as she called out for a doctor, her voice having a strange quality of both practiced calmness and undeniable urgency. While her control should have left him at least a little reassured, all he felt was a terrible sinking feeling. He wouldn’t have believed he could go any lower, but he just kept going as if he had a huge weight pulling him further and further underwater.

A doctor he didn’t recognize came rushing from down the hall. Selyn tried to close the door behind him once he entered the room, but before he realized what he was doing, Noct was pushing back, trying to get a look inside. 

He wouldn’t have thought the terrible feeling in his bones could get any worse but somehow it did at what he saw. All he caught was a glance but it was enough to send him over the edge. He saw Prompto with blood on his arm, hands, shirt, a smear on his face, and maybe even a bit in the tips of his blonde hair in places. The ultimate kicker was that he was unconscious, and combined with the blood it would have been easy to believe what he just saw wasn’t actually his friend but only his friend’s  _ body.  _

“What’s happening?” Noct demanded, but no one paid him any mind. Selyn had backed away from the door and was filling in the doctor quietly while rushing around the room picking things out of cabinets and drawers. “Is he okay? Tell me what’s happening!” he ordered, but it got him nowhere. 

It wouldn’t have helped anyway -- in the frantic state he was slipping into he was no longer able to understand what people around him were saying. All he could do was look at his bloodied friend while everything else blurred in his mind. Prompto’s face was still fearful even though he was no longer awake, and Noct vaguely registered that he was clutching his wrist like a lifeline. He watched wordlessly as Selyn began preparing a syringe and smoothly stuck it into Prompto’s arm. He wasn’t sure what was in it but it couldn’t be a good sign. 

Nothing was making sense anymore, sounds weren’t registering and he was completely oblivious to all the movement around him. Someone was pulling at his arm and the doctor was looking straight at him and saying something he couldn’t understand. All he knew in the moment was panic. 

He didn’t care anymore that Prompto hadn’t wanted his company. Maybe he should have let him have some privacy as Ignis suggested, but every instinct he had was telling him he needed to rush to his friend’s side, as if both their lives depended on it. 

There was a crushing feeling in his chest and it took a minute to realize it was Gladio, literally wrapping his arms around his middle, pulling him back out of the doorway, picking him up off the ground entirely, turning, and carrying him out of the way. Something feral sparked inside him and he began clawing at the arms around his torso, flailing and kicking at the solid mass dragging him away from all that mattered. 

Noct felt much of the fight leave him as soon as the doctor shut the door, severing his view of his friend. He drooped in Gladio’s arms, completely giving up. “Just let me _ go,” _ he whimpered. He begged, “Please just stop _.”  _

Sensing the change in his mood, Gladio set him back down on his feet, only for him to crash down to his hands and knees a second later. Noct barely seemed to notice. 

He almost didn’t recognize himself; he was never this openly emotional. He was more the type to bottle things up, but the thought of losing Prompto brought out everything he’d never let anyone else see. He stayed in that same spot and completely broke down, past the point of caring about the scene he was creating. 

 

\--

 

The doctors and nurses working at the Citadel had seen a variety of things, some mundane, some...less so. Their patients were generally only the royal family and those who worked in service to them, like servants, Crownsguard, Kingsglaive, and anyone who was visiting the Citadel on business. 

Much of what they saw was unremarkable. Everyone got sick sometimes, and they were there to ensure that servants of the Crown could see a doctor conveniently and that the royal family themselves would never have to travel far if they needed medical attention.

Sometimes they saw more serious things. Many kings in their later years needed frequent help due to the effects on their bodies from the Ring and Crystal. Prince Noctis had needed help often ever since the incident in his childhood, and they saw him many times when his old injuries would flare up. They also treated injuries for the Crownsguard, especially recruits who were still learning and the inevitable mishaps that happened. 

Selyn had been surprised when a new face was brought in. He was clearly too young to be in training and she would have liked to think she would recognize him if he had a position within the Citadel. When Ignis introduced him as Prompto, she recognized the name. He was the best friend to the prince she had heard about. It was certainly an unusual case to see him here, but she was, of course, happy to help. 

If only he had been willing to accept that help. Ignis had tried to be subtle when talking about the boy with him standing right there but he seemed entirely oblivious. He had told her in the most delicate way possible that he believed he had interrupted a suicide attempt. Hearing that had made her chest ache for the poor boy, especially with the trance-like state he was currently in. 

But he was hesitant to accept help. She tried to make him feel safe, told him that the staff there were willing to help in any way they could, but the attention only seemed to make him feel worse. He refused to let her see the wound on his wrist, panicking the more she insisted, no matter how gentle she tried to be. 

Suicide attempts were by no means a simple issue, but Selyn had been beginning to suspect there was something more going on. Maybe Prompto was just a naturally apprehensive boy, but her gut was telling her there was even more to the story than that.

When he had passed out from a panic attack, she called for a doctor to come see him. The doctor had taken a single glance at the boy and decided that they needed to sedate him further, to be sure he didn’t wake up before they were able to treat him properly. She wished it wasn’t necessary, but she had to agree. Her dealings with Prompto indicated that he wasn’t going to accept help willingly, and while she had told the truth when she told him they could not force treatment on him, the intense look Ignis had given her when he handed the boy over into her care told her without words they were to do anything deemed necessary to save him. 

When they were finally able to pry his hand away from his wrist, what they saw was definitely not what they were expecting. Surprisingly, it was likely this hadn’t been a suicide attempt after all. Instead of a clean slice down the arm designed only for blood loss, the cut into Prompto’s arm was around a strange barcode design on the inside of his wrist. It appeared that he had been attempting to cut the tattoo out of his skin. The work was by no means sloppy but was obviously by an unexperienced hand; the cuts were clean but varied in depth, causing the wound to bleed enough to look like the suicide attempt they’d all assumed it was -- but not bloody enough to cause him to black out sooner. 

While parts of what happened were coming together, some pieces were still very much a mystery, such as how an underage boy had a tattoo in the first place. It didn’t look fresh at all, so he’d likely had it for years -- but that only made its presence more baffling. And why had he tried to get rid of it in such a manner?

At some point while examining him, another nurse had delivered Prompto’s file. Not every citizen had one of this kind, but his relationship with the Prince meant that he’d had to pass a background check. Quickly skimming the information, Selyn realized something strange was going on. While the boy had been adopted young, there was nothing in his file about him before that. Nothing about his biological parents, where he was born, or medical records of any kind. But after digging further into the file, at the very end, Selyn saw the strangest part. It had a note that in an emergency, it wasn’t his parents who were supposed to be called -- it was Cor Leonis. 

Something peculiar was definitely going on here. 

 

\--

 

Ignis checked his watch impatiently. He was sitting on the bench in the medical wing, keeping an eye on Noctis. Noct was still sitting on the floor outside Prompto’s room. He had his back to the wall and his knees pulled to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around himself. If he hadn’t known better, he almost would have believed Noct was asleep he was so still and calm. Nothing like before.

His emotional outburst had been upsetting, to say the least. He couldn’t remember ever seeing his prince so emotional in the past; it was almost like the potential tragedy had temporarily turned him into a different person. But grief had its way of doing that.

Not to say that Ignis wasn’t worried as well. As much as he’d like to say he was only worried for Noct, Prompto had grown on him in the couple years he’d known him. The boy was literally a ray of sunshine, and as annoying as he could often be, it was impossible to truly dislike the child. It made Ignis wonder why Prompto didn’t have more friends at school, but he supposed Noctis brought out the best of Prompto, just as Prompto did for Noctis. 

It did make this event surprising though. Everyone had bad days, no doubt, but this was something he never would have foreseen. He almost felt guilty that he’d had no clue something like this was on Prompto’s horizon. His observational skills were something he prided himself on, but he’d never detected any hint of this. 

Ignis was broken from his thoughts when Gladio said from beside him, “Hey, what’s the Marshal doing here?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thanks again for all the love guys, it means so much to me. The support has really kept me going. Comments especially are wonderful, so I appreciate if you can take a minute and tell me what you thought :)
> 
> Just some things I want to note before we begin: 
> 
> I was writing this and it started getting a bit long so I decided to cut it off and have a final fourth chapter. That should be enough to wrap everything up. 
> 
> I have actually not finished the game or played Episode Prompto. All my knowledge comes from a bit of reading on a fan wiki and all the fanfics I've read. There are one or two things I just plain made up and the rest is based on things I've read, so it may not all be accurate but I tried I guess lol
> 
> Please enjoy!

Gladio, Ignis, and Noctis watched uneasily as Cor made his way down the hall toward them. He didn’t spare them a moment’s glance as he walked right past the three of them with quick strides and straight into Prompto’s room. All three looked to each other in confusion. 

“What’s Cor doing here?” Noct asked, looking back and forth from Ignis to Gladio. Neither had an answer for him. Befuddled, he asked, “Did one of you call him?”

Noct looked to Ignis, who simply answered, “I cannot say I did.” Noct looked to Gladio, who just shook his head slowly. Ignis added, “I also cannot imagine what business the Marshal would have related to this event.”

“Does he know Prompto?” Gladio asked Noct. 

He had to take a moment to think. “I think he knows  _ of _ him. Probably was involved in the background check or something.” Ignis and Gladio gave him a strange look and Noct sighed and asked exasperatedly, “Did you really think I don’t know stuff like that gets done? I’m not a  _ complete _ idiot,” he muttered quietly to himself at the end. 

No, he was only  _ mostly _ an idiot for not seeing what had been in front of his face for gods knew how long. And now it might cost him  _ everything _ \--

Gladio could see Noct spiraling and said, “You’re not -- well, sometimes you are a bit I guess. But no, kid, this isn’t on you,” he finished uncharacteristically softly. 

“Convincing, thanks,” Noct answered dryly. 

Trying to distract Noct from the toxic rabbit hole he was determined to go down, Ignis brought the conversation back. “Still, I do wonder why he would feel his presence was necessary.”

“You know Cor, he’s involved in everything that goes on here in one way or another,” Gladio supplied.

\--

When Prompto woke up he was beyond confused. He tried to sit up and look around, drowning in a feeling of dread, but found himself struggling to move even at a snail’s pace. Everything felt heavy and his head was spinning uncomfortably. When he finally caught sight of his bandaged wrist, most of it clicked into place. 

_ Barcode. Ignis. Citadel. Medical wing. Shit.  _

He huffed with the effort it took to sit up but was pushed back to the bed a moment later. Looking up, he saw a man in Crownsguard black standing over him. He hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t alone in the room. That didn’t bode well. A piece of his woozy mind felt like he should recognize the man, but nothing was coming to him. He squinted at the man’s stern face, hoping something would start to make sense. 

The two stared at each other silently for a minute before the older man cleared his throat and broke the silence. “I’m not sure if we’ve been introduced. My name is Cor Leonis, I’m the Marshal of the Crownsguard.” 

Well, that made him feel a little better. At least it wasn’t something wrong with his brain that was stopping him from remembering the guy. But then the second part of the sentence registered and Prompto tensed up in alarm. Why would someone so important be visiting him, of all people? Even if this had been a suicide attempt, that still wouldn’t be reason for someone so high ranking to show up.

Reading Prompto’s facial expression with ease, Cor reassured him, “There’s no need to be anxious.”  _ Too late.  _ “I was called because I may be able to help.” The man stopped, seeming somewhat uncomfortable. 

Prompto couldn’t say he was any less uncomfortable, but he tried to move the conversation along. “Look, this isn’t what it looks like.”

“And what does it look like?” he asked quietly. 

“I know, I know, blood plus wrist usually equals suicide but that’s totally not what happened!” he exclaimed nervously. Saying it out loud made the whole situation even crazier. If only he had just refused to open his door for Ignis, he wouldn’t be here in a hospital bed, having Eos’ most awkward staring contest with possibly the scariest-looking man he’d ever met. 

“Oh, I believe I know what happened,” Cor said with a sigh, finally lowering himself into a seat beside the bed to be able to look at Prompto at the same level. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and it was actually a little reassuring to see the Marshal seemed as nervous as Prompto felt himself. “I’m...I’m not sure how to start, kid. None of this is easy.” Easy? What did that mean?

“You don’t have to worry about it if you don’t want to. I’d really like to just go home and forget any of this happened,” Prompto said, almost a little longingly. 

Cor scowled at the floor in thought for a moment. He asked without looking back up at him, “And what will you do about the barcode, then?”

There it was. The doctors must have told him about it. He hadn’t been sure what would happen next, but he supposed contacting someone in the Crownsguard could be a logical next step. Was the ‘not easy’ thing telling Prompto that he couldn’t be close to Noct anymore? It wasn’t as if he could explain why he had this tattoo, where it came from or what it meant. It was obviously something shameful and wrong, whether he knew exactly what it was or not. He couldn’t imagine that they wanted someone like him hanging around the Prince. Would they believe him when he says he doesn’t know anything about it? If they thought he was hiding something, would he even be allowed to go home at all? Maybe his mother was right all along, he  _ was _ an abomination that didn’t belong out loose in the world. 

He hadn’t realized his breathing had started to pick up again, quickly turning into another panic attack. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Cor leaning forward in his seat, clearly distressed and doing a poor job of hiding it. Wordlessly, he reached a hand out and hesitantly laid it on Prompto’s arm. He was clearly not confident in how to comfort someone, but Prompto felt the sentiment all the same. His breathing eventually calmed down to a more sustainable rate. 

Eventually he worked up the nerve to speak. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t know what it is, I just know it’s making me miserable.”

“So you tried to remove it, then?”

“Yeah,” he answered so quietly Cor almost wasn’t sure he heard anything. 

“And what if I could tell you what it was?” Cor asked slowly. 

Prompto’s eyes snapped wide open as he looked up from his lap to make shocked eye contact. Was he really about to get the answer to the question he’d been asking for as long as he could remember? How did someone like Cor know if his parents didn’t? What could that even mean about him? Most pressing, did he truly want to know? Now that he knew what his own mother thought of him, did he  _ really _ want to know what could make someone feel that way about their child? Would anything short of physically removing that mark from his body be enough? 

“I could tell you,” Cor continued, “if you want me to.”

Questioned swirled around Prompto’s head to the point he could barely think clearly. All he could do to reply was nod emotionally, chewing his lip nearly to the point of drawing blood. 

The Marshal nodded back at him and paused himself. “You were given the code as an infant,” he began. He stopped again for a moment before rushing forward, as if trying not to lose his nerve, “You were born in Niflheim. Some field operatives found you in a lab and rescued you. They... _ we _ brought you back here. Found you a family. We thought that would be enough, but clearly we’ve failed you to some extent if you’ve been driven to do this to yourself.”

Prompto’s brain couldn’t decide which part to focus on. He was born in  _ Niflheim?  _ He was found  _ in a lab? We?  _ As in, Cor was  _ there?  _ Was Cor blaming  _ himself _ for this mess? That seemed like an extreme reaction, but looking down at his wrist, Prompto wasn’t one to judge him for that today. 

“I-I-I don’t understand,” Prompto said, voice wavering heavily. “H-how can that be? In….in a lab? Am I even human?” 

Cor seemed startled by the question and answered immediately, “Of course you are, kid. Why would you even ask that?”

All he could do was hang his head. He’d always felt different, and after his mother’s words, it almost seemed to make sense. Maybe all the differences he’d seen over the years weren’t because he was some freak of nature. Maybe he really was just different, in a normal, boring, human way. It was both a shock and a relief and he was hesitant to accept it so easily. So many emotions were coursing through him, he took a minute to answer. “Just...something my mom said to me recently.” Without realizing it, his hand was drawn to his wrist again, and judging by Cor’s face, he made the connection. 

Cor cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry. I’d always thought we found you a good home. A loving family. You deserve it more than anyone, with all you’ve been through.”

“But...why was I in a lab? Am I...am I an experiment?” he asked quietly. 

If Prompto thought Cor looked uneasy before, he had no words to describe the levels of anxiousness coming from the man now. “If I told you that you didn’t want to know, would that make things better or worse?”

Without a second thought, Prompto answered, “Worse. I need to know.”

“We aren’t totally sure. But you weren’t the only one we found. We tried to bring home as many as we could, but...the others didn’t survive the trip. Just you. We think they were building some kind of army. When they were done with you...you wouldn’t have been human anymore. We got you just in time.”

Those last two sentences were absolutely  _ bonkers _ and he had no idea how to process something like that. He wasn’t sure how he felt about any of this. It was probably something that was going to haunt him for a long time. The crushing feeling of uncertainty he’d lived with for so long was being replaced with the only slightly less crushing feeling of understanding his personal reality. Right now, he wasn’t sure this was any better. Maybe someday. But not yet. Cor had given him both the answers he’d yearned for and a lifetime of nightmare fuel all at once. 

“So you’ve...always known about me?” Prompto chanced a look over to Cor, who nodded once in reply. “And you still let me be around Noct?”

“You’re a good kid. By the time you became friends with Noctis, we could tell that much already. You were raised here, you’re one of us. You’re a citizen of Insomnia as much as anyone else on our streets.”

Prompto kind of wished Cor had said something that didn’t make it so painfully obvious that he’d been observed for much of his life, but he was still relieved all the same. If they thought he belonged enough to not be a threat to Noctis, they must be onto something. They wouldn’t let their friendship happen if they weren’t completely certain. He still wasn’t sure himself, but it was reassuring regardless. Maybe with time, he’d be certain too. It gave him a kind of hope he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. 

“So...what now?” Prompto asked, working hard to keep his voice steady. 

Despite how sure Cor had been when he was talking about Prompto, he looked completely uncertain about what to say next. He seemed conflicted, but he eventually answered simply, “You get fixed up. You go home. The rest is up to you. Everything else is on your own terms. If you don’t want to tell anyone anything, that’s up to you, and I’ll do everything in my power to help keep it confidential.”

\--

Outside, Ignis and Gladio were still trying to keep Noct from going off the deep end. Noct had moved back to sit between them, and had finally allowed Gladio’s hand on his shoulder. It seemed to be a peace offering that was finally accepted. Ignis’ hand also took up residence on his other shoulder, occasionally slipping down to rub soothing circles lightly on his back. Part of Noct felt it was too intimate to be doing in public but he decided a while ago that he didn’t care. All he cared about tonight was Prompto. Literally everything else took a backseat in his mind. 

Ignis’ mind, as usual, was continuing non-stop no matter the circumstances. Instead of focusing on the worst case scenarios, he’d started thinking about what would need to happen should this situation come to a less morbid end. Prompto would likely need ongoing therapy, and he could help with that somehow. He knew that Prompto would likely try to get out of it, but he could help by ensuring that he made it to his appointments, or anything else he could do to make it less of a burden. Perhaps that would help Prompto to see his mental health was important to all of them.

He was also thinking about Prompto’s home life. Ignis had long held suspicions about what Prompto’s life at home was like -- namely, that it was not appropriate for someone his age. He had seen signs that Prompto lived mainly by himself but had never made any effort to help his situation, which he felt a little guilty for sitting here now. For a teenage boy, he was functioning exceptionally -- especially compared to the dependence on Ignis that Noct frequently displayed. But the period following a traumatic event like this was not the time to be alone. Maybe he could convince Prompto to stay with Noct for a time. That would make it easier for Ignis to keep a more watchful eye on his well being, and it would likely be good support for him emotionally as well. Noct was also unlikely to want to leave Prompto’s side for quite some time and while he didn’t want to foster complete codependence between the two, they could both do with some comfort for the time being. 

While he wasn’t sure what Prompto’s relationship with his parents was like, Ignis would need to make sure that they were made aware of the incident in an appropriate manner. He would have to try to have a subtle conversation with Prompto to find out his thoughts on the matter. But first, he should go to his house and clean up any leftover blood; that’s hardly the way Prompto’s parents should discover what happened. Perhaps he could straighten some other things around the house to further lighten the boy’s load. Ignis may be able to maintain a house despite his age, but he was an exception; a boy Prompto’s age shouldn’t be solely responsible for his dwelling. If Ignis’ suspicions were correct, he probably had ample time to complete that particular task. 

Perhaps he should also have a serious talk with Prompto’s parents to educate them about Insomnia’s laws on child abandonment...

Ignis’ neverending train of thought was derailed by Cor quietly exiting Prompto’s room, quickly shutting the door behind himself to prevent anyone from getting a glimpse inside. Noct jumped out of his seat, rushing forward to the Marshal. “Cor, what’s happening?” he asked. His tone had almost enough strength behind it to call commanding, but the desperation took away from the overall effect. 

Cor pursed his lips. “Prompto will be alright. I’m sure the doctor will let you see him soon.”

Noct felt so weak in the knees he nearly collapsed at the good news. It was a rush to have his prayers answered and he almost didn’t know what to do with himself with the burden taken from his back. “What...why are you here, then?” 

Cor looked almost annoyed and Noct had to force himself not to take a step back. He finally replied, “You can ask him that later.”

“Sir, this hardly seems like a matter you’d be interested in,” Ignis fished for more information. He didn’t want to admit he was also incredibly curious about what had drawn Cor’s interest, but he couldn’t help himself.

He ignored Ignis’ comment and addressed Noct, “Just be there for your friend, yeah?”

“Marshal,” Ignis insisted again, “Any intel you can give us would be most helpful.”

At that, the man cocked his head in a way that seemed almost aggressive and replied cryptically, “That isn’t my information to give, Scientia. You’ll have to ask Prompto yourself.”

“Really? That’s all you’re going to say?” Gladio asked incredulously. “It was important enough for you to come all the way here and you’re going to pretend that in itself isn’t weird?”

Ignis added, “It would be in the boy’s best interest if we knew as much as possible, so we can better take care of him.”

“Gentlemen,” Cor cut them off authoritatively. “The only information you need to know is what Prompto decides to tell you later.” 

Before any of the three could ask another question, Cor nodded once sharply, turned on his heel, and marched away down the corridor. 

All three of them stood silently, puzzled by Cor’s demeanor. Selyn approached them soon after. To Ignis’ great frustration, she wasn’t much more helpful than the Marshal had been. 

“I’ve been told you have extensive experience with first aid, Ignis. The doctor assured me caring for Prompto’s wound would be well within your capabilities. If he’d like to come back here for care instead he is welcome to do so.” Selyn told him coldly, clearly not giving in to Ignis’ repeated requests for more information. 

“Regardless, I’d feel better with some form of actual instruction. Surely there’s more someone can tell me.”

Selyn crossed her arms. “I’ve been instructed by the Marshal to not give you any additional information. Talk to Prompto.”

Ignis barely held in his huff of frustration. “You cannot be serious. Why on Eos would Cor order you to not give us information vital to Prompto’s care?”

Gladio pitched in, “He’s a good kid and all, but he doesn’t know shit about first aid. This doesn’t make any sense.”

“Look,” Selyn said impatiently, “I’ve been ordered to make sure the only info you get comes from Prompto.  _ I  _ barely know what happened. I saw the wound and there’s clearly a story behind it, but I can’t tell you what I  _ don’t know.  _ Apparently telling you the specifics of how to treat the wound is revealing too much in the Marshal’s opinion. You’re welcome to go argue with him instead.”

“Story?” Noct asked curiously. No one acknowledged his question. 

“Ask your friend. Plain and simple. He should be ready to go any minute, so shoo. Take him home and have a heart to heart, because you’re wasting your sweet time bugging me about it.” Her tone was harsh, but it was clear her annoyance was coming from a resolute form of protectiveness for Prompto and duty to the Crown. She was clearly trying to do what was right by him and didn’t want to disobey her orders, things none of them knew how to argue with. They were on the same side and in the same boat of confusion over the whole situation.

Throwing his hands up in exasperation, Ignis turned away to collect Prompto and prepare to take him home. 

\--

Prompto was sitting alone in the hospital room, collecting his thoughts. His mind was alternating between blank and racing at breakneck speeds. He was absently pressing on the wound, trying to remember the pain and power he felt earlier in the day. He had a feeling he’d be needing some.

He wasn’t sure he was ready to tell his friends about all he’d learned today. On one hand, he wanted time to wrap his own mind around his newly discovered origins. On the other, he knew that they weren’t going to leave him alone after this when they believed he just tried to kill himself. Gods, how would they react when they found out it wasn’t a suicide attempt? Would they be upset he wasted their time? Angry to discover what he’d been hiding for so long? A distant corner of his mind chimed in that they’d probably just be worried for him because they care, but he passed over the thought far too easily.

Even if he did tell them, would that just make things worse? He was having a hard enough time accepting that he was from Niflheim, how would Noct and the others feel when they found out he came from the country that their people had been at war with for centuries? Would this finally be the final straw that broke his friendship with Noctis? Part of him found it hard to believe Noct would just drop him over something like this, but at the same time it was hard to imagine a future where everything stayed as it was with this hanging over their heads. Even if Noct didn’t outright cut ties, would knowing this cause a subconscious divide between them? The idea broke his heart, but he was having trouble picturing any other outcome. He was starting to regret everything again. He finally had his answers and yet nothing felt any better, if anything only more confusing.

His tangle of thoughts was interrupted when the door opened. Noct was standing in the entry, watching him carefully. He had an unreadable expression clouding his face as he stared. The look made Prompto uncomfortable and he looked down, so he was completely startled when suddenly Noct threw himself at him, wrapping his arms around Prompto tightly. 

At such a close distance, he could hear how rough Noct’s breathing was; he almost seemed close to tears. The sound was enough to tip Prompto over the edge and his own eyes began to water a bit. 

Looking over Noct’s shoulder, he could see Ignis and Gladio standing in the doorway, hesitant to come in. Prompto knew that it made sense, the room wasn’t that large after all, but the illogical part of his brain felt like they were already trying to keep their distance from him, and the thought made him uneasy. 

Noct finally pulled back, but remained close enough to keep a hand on Prompto’s uninjured arm. The gentle touch was reassuring. 

Ignis finally cleared his throat and said, “Well, let’s get you home, shall we?” 

Prompto nodded gratefully and stood. Noct remained near him constantly on their walk to the car, effectively glued at his side. The two of them trailed behind Ignis and Gladio leading the way, the others having some conversation too quiet to catch. Prompto wasn’t sure if Noctis didn’t want to talk or simply didn’t know what to say, but the silence was slightly uncomfortable either way. He wasn’t complaining though; he was still wading through the mess in his head, trying to figure out what exactly he was going to tell them. 

The car ride was silent too, but it felt less awkward with each passing minute. Prompto was grateful for that much. After a while of staring blankly out the window, he finally realized what he was looking at and what part of the city they were in. This wasn’t the way to his house. “Uh, Iggy, you get lost or something? Or is this a weird new long-cut to get me home?”

He met eyes with Ignis in the rearview mirror briefly before he responded smoothly, “We all thought you might be more comfortable at Noct’s apartment instead of being home all by yourself.” 

_ Great,  _ now they didn’t trust him alone. If this was going to be some kind of ultra-babysitting like he was starting to suspect, he was never going to get a moment of privacy again. As much as he didn’t mind staying at Noct’s place now and then, he didn’t want to move in. Sure, he wished his parents were home more often and his house did get kinda lonely sometimes, but he enjoyed his privacy a lot of the time. Any chance of getting time alone to think was disappearing before his eyes, but he couldn’t think of words to argue with. He supposed a small part of him felt warm that they cared so much, and he decided to focus on that piece rather than the larger part that felt like it was already suffocating. The battle between those two feelings dominated his thoughts the rest of the way back to Noct’s apartment. 

When they got inside, Prompto wandered over to the couch and plopped himself down. He tried to think of some normal topic of conversation he could bring up, but all he could think about was a jumble of incoherent pieces about his barcode, Niflheim, wanting some time alone, and an endless supply of worry about the future. 

Just as he was trying to figure out if he could get home on his own just in case they kicked him out when he told them the truth, Noct spoke up, “Hey, um, you want to lie down? Or something? Anything you need?” Prompto almost laughed at the awkwardness saturating his voice; he should leave that kind of stuff to Ignis. 

“No, I’m good,” he replied instead. 

“Are you though?” Gladio asked. Prompto almost jumped, he’d forgotten Gladio was even with them. It was spooky sometimes how well he could blend in and be so easily missed. “I mean, are we going to talk about this, or what?” 

Prompto winced. He’d hoped he could at least get something to eat before spilling his metaphorical guts. Ignis, seemingly reading his mind, said from the kitchen, “I’m going to whip something up. It can wait until we have all eaten a real meal.”

Saved by the….Ignis. 

He didn’t want to talk. At all. About _anything._ Especially when he wasn’t even sure how _he_ felt about all this. So he closed his eyes and laid his head down on the couch, pretending to sleep. Either they bought the act or could take the hint and left him alone until dinner. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry for the long wait. Hope you all enjoy the chapter.

Dinner was awkward. Not much was said. Scratch that,  _ nothing _ was said besides a few compliments to Ignis about his cooking. Everyone had something on their minds but none of them knew how to put their feelings into words. 

Noctis wasn’t sure what to say. He was still so relieved he almost felt lightheaded at times. What Prompto did was so far beyond anything Noct could understand. This went beyond his guilt of not seeing this coming, he couldn’t fathom what would make a person do that. Even in his darkest, most apathetic moments, Noct had never considered taking his life. All his life it had been hammered into him that he had a role to play, a destiny, responsibilities larger than himself. His relationship with those concepts had changed a great deal over the years, but it had given him a sense of purpose when nothing else felt worth going on for. Purpose that, he supposed, Prompto might not have. Not in the same way, at least. The idea that nothing in Prompto’s life made him feel the same unwavering ties to the world, the same drive to keep pushing through, broke his heart. And he wasn’t sure what he could possibly do to give that to his friend. 

Ignis wasn’t sure what to say. He had thought about ways he could make Prompto’s burden lighter going forward, but nothing he did now could erase what happened today. His title may be  _ advisor _ but he had no idea how to guide him through the days to come. And he truly wanted to. Not just for Noct’s sake. Prompto may be of common birth but at this point he had been practically unofficially adopted by the royal family -- whether he liked or even knew it or not. While taking care of Prompto’s needs may not be in his official job description, he had taken on that set of duties voluntarily. His friendship with the boy had come about because of how much Noct cared for him, and Ignis had quickly discovered he  _ wanted _ to help. Between Prompto’s sunny attitude, the strength of his bond with Noct, and something deeper Ignis couldn’t put his finger on, Ignis found it hard  _ not _ to care about his well being. 

Gladio wasn’t sure what to say. He may have a softer side than most would expect judging from his appearance alone, but feelings were still often beyond his comfort zone. And while he had come to feel somewhat protective of Prompto, his bond wasn’t as strong as the others’. Besides, he didn’t know how he was supposed to protect Prompto from himself; that wasn’t really his specialty. He’d happily protect him from any physical threat -- assuming his duty to protect Noct wouldn’t get in the way of that -- but this was a danger Gladio didn’t know how to combat, so he couldn’t help but feel a bit helpless when he looked around at the silent table. This was something he didn’t know how to fix. His earlier words urging everyone to confront this as soon as possible weren’t enough to spur the conversation on. He was at a loss. 

Prompto  _ really _ didn’t know what to say. He was having a hard time figuring out if he wanted to tell his friends any of this at all. He desperately needed time to process everything and it was becoming pretty clear he wasn’t going to get that time. It turned into a race to understand everything he was feeling, which was exhausting and didn’t seem to be making anything any clearer. If he had his way, he wouldn’t tell them any of it. Hell, if he had his way he wouldn’t even be here; he’d be in his own home, by himself, with all the time alone to think he needed to work this out. But none of that was an option and the pressure of being surrounded by his curious friends was dragging his mood down further than he would have thought possible. 

He had started the meal enthusiastically but halfway through he was slowing down dramatically. After the meal came the interrogation he was dreading, so he switched from eating his meal to pushing it around his plate. It was unlikely any of the others were oblivious to what he was doing, but he was hoping none of them would call him on it. He needed more time than they would be willing to give him, so he was grasping for every minute he could manage.

But eventually the meal had to come to an end. Once everyone but Prompto -- who was happy to keep playing with his food as long as possible -- had set down their forks, Ignis stood to collect the plates and clear the table. He gathered everyone else's dishes first, but when he was done he moved to stand behind Prompto. When Prompto seemed like he was going to ignore them all night, Ignis cleared his throat pointedly. The blonde took the hint and relinquished his plate, standing silently and walking away from the table and the others entirely, taking a seat on the sectional across the room. 

Noct exchanged an awkward look with Ignis and Gladio. They were all concerned for Prompto but weren’t sure how to deal with his decidedly passive aggressive behavior. It was so far outside the norm for him, which made it even more worrisome. 

“What was  _ that?” _ Noct hissed, completely astounded. 

Ignis gave a hint of a sigh in response. “It would seem Prompto is in no hurry to have our impending conversation,” Ignis said softly. He had no doubts Prompto could hear, but he didn’t see the harm in vocalizing the obvious. “Perhaps we can give him a few minutes to himself. No need to make this harder than necessary.”

Gladio and Noct tried to take Ignis’ advice to heart. As ready as Gladio was to talk to Prompto, he tried to take Prompto’s feelings into account more. He wasn’t sure what that conversation was going to be like, but he was always the type to plow through obstacles instead of sitting around considering how to approach. Most of the time things worked out; that was the quality that made it easy to jump between Noctis and danger without a second thought. But forcing this particular task wasn’t going to end well and he knew when it was time to take a moment to slow down -- he just wasn’t totally sure what to do once he did. 

Noct was having a harder time holding back. Ever since he received that call from Ignis, there’d been an empty feeling in his chest. And it only went away when he was within arm’s reach of Prompto. He was aching to go join his friend and sit at his side until everything was fixed. Logically, he knew it wouldn’t be that simple, but he was willing to do whatever it took -- and he desperately wanted to make sure Prompto knew that. He couldn’t help but feel like he was failing his best friend over and over again and the cycle needed to end, but he couldn’t know how unless Prompto gave him some kind of clue of where to start. 

Silence continued to reign while Ignis finished cleaning up their meal. At some point Noct had lost the battle to keep his distance, moving to sit on the opposite end of the sofa from Prompto. It was the best he could do. When Ignis was finally done, he signalled Gladio and they both went to join the younger two, making a point of sitting in a way that didn’t look like it was them vs. Prompto but also wasn’t so close it was smothering.

The silence stretched on until Prompto finally mumbled the first words, a trembling whisper, “Do I have to do this?”

No one had expected him to be eager to discuss his thwarted suicide attempt, but they had no more idea how to respond to this than they did on where to start. When no one else opted to answer, Gladio awkwardly answered, “Well, yeah.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Prompto said, throwing his hands up in defeat. 

“Is there anything you’d like to say?” Ignis asked gently. 

Prompto had the ghost of a smirk on his face when he simply answered, “No.”

Gladio clapped Ignis lightly on the back. “Walked straight into that one, Iggs.”

“I know you guys probably won’t believe me, but this isn’t what it looks like,” Prompto told them honestly. “And you have no idea how much I’d love to leave it at that.”

 

“I’m afraid it isn’t that simple,” Ignis began diplomatically. “We care about you, Prompto, truly. We want to do our part to ensure you never feel the need to do this again. You can come to us with anything. Please tell us how we can help.”

Prompto breathed deeply for a few seconds before just crying out, “Just back off! This isn’t something I need your help with.”

Taken aback by his outburst, the others all sat back in their seats in shock. Noct looked like he’d been simultaneously punched in the stomach and told his puppy died. Even Ignis’ face showed surprise. Gladio’s eyes narrowed as he analyzed Prompto’s body language. Finally, Gladio said in the most infuriatingly rational tone Prompto had ever heard from anyone other than Ignis, “Okay then. Tell us what you mean when you say this isn’t what it looks like.” Prompto was on the edge of glaring at the man so he continued, “To us, it looks a hell of a lot like a suicide attempt. If you wanna disagree, here’s your chance. Talk to us.”

“It’s hard to explain,” Prompto began hesitantly. 

Noct looked him straight in the eye, and Prompto could see the beginnings of tears as he asked, “Just try. Please?”

The pitiful look made Prompto’s own eyes tear up. “I’m worried about what you guys are going to think….this is really crazy and I don’t want anything to change.”

The silence stretched on again, so Ignis urged him on by saying, “You never have to worry about what we think of you, Prompto. You are our brother and that is not going to change.”

Prompto bobbed his head a few times at the words and took a deep breath before he began unwrapping his wrist. He started with the larger wrapping on top, working his way down to the smaller bandage below. Taking the pressure off the wound made the throbbing more obvious and he tried to hide his grimace, but he was pretty sure the others caught it.  _ Caught _ was the perfect word to describe how he felt right now. Or maybe  _ cornered.  _ He was having serious doubts. 

“Is that necessary?” Ignis said, puzzled. 

“It….makes what I’m going to say easier to explain,” Prompto sighed, totally resigned at this point. 

He continued gently pulling at the tape on the large bandage, hoping to save the adhesive and be able to cover it back up again as quickly as possible. All he could do was focus on his delicate work and try to forget what he was about to do. The very idea of showing his barcode to anyone he cared about still made him feel physically ill, so shutting down his brain to keep himself from chickening out seemed like the best choice. 

While Prompto gingerly pulled at the bandaging on his wrist, Noct, Ignis, and Gladio exchanged a look. None of them were queasy where injuries were concerned; that was something they had plenty of experience with. Gladio had an iron stomach and Noct had seen enough blood to desensitize him for the most part. What they  _ were _ nervous about was how this could possibly help. Ignis noted in the back of his mind that this would be the first time he’d ever seen Prompto’s bare right wrist, but the thought was quickly dismissed as irrelevant. 

Finally, Prompto finished pulling up the tape and the big reveal was imminent. The voice in his head was screaming at him to abort, to stop doing what he was doing at any cost. “I hope you meant what you said,” Prompto murmured as he flipped the bandage off to the side, revealing his darkest secret.

The other three leaned forward for a better look, and were baffled at what they saw. It was a little difficult to see under all the leftover blood, but they could see the black mark beneath well enough. All of them gave a sharp inhale at the sight at roughly the same time. 

Gladio was the one to break the silence. “So….what am I looking at here? You got a tattoo and tried to cut it out? There are better ways to get rid of those, y’know.”

Ignis added his question as tactfully as he could, “How did you get that? You aren’t exactly of legal age to have a tattoo.”

Noct wasn’t sure what exactly any of this meant, but he put together something else quickly: “This is why you always wear that nasty wristband, isn’t it?”

Prompto had expected everything else to be easy once he revealed the code. He’d thought the rest would flow naturally once his greatest shame was out in the open, but all he wanted to do was turn back. His brain was screaming at him to physically flee, but he knew his chances of getting anywhere were virtually nonexistent. Still, he found himself backtracking the best he could. “Look, I wanted it gone because….reasons,” he said weakly. As if  _ that _ explanation was going to fly. “Reasons I don’t want you guys to know. But is this enough to prove I was not trying to kill myself?”

“I’d say it is,” Ignis said slowly. Prompto’s heart  _ soared _ at his words, thinking he could skip the rest of this forced heart to heart. But his heart crashed back to the ground in a massive crater when Ignis continued, “But I believe this just changes the type of conversation we’ll be having.”

Prompto let out a little whine of frustration. They were all sitting there as if he hadn’t just showed them a piece of himself he studiously kept hidden, as if this wasn’t a life shattering confession for him. As if any part of this was something that could be calmly discussed like mature human beings. Especially when he still wasn’t convinced he was one. 

“What you did today was irresponsible at best, Prompto. I won’t pretend to know what was going through your head when you cut up your wrist, but what you did was reckless and could have gone horribly wrong,” Ignis scolded. Prompto almost couldn’t blame him and was actually sort of surprised and strangely grateful he managed to hold off on this part of the conversation for so long. 

After bobbing his head a few times in thought, Prompto abruptly stood and turned for the door. He didn’t have the highest of hopes of getting far, but his desperation was coming forward and he had to at least  _ try.  _ Before he made more than two steps, Noct’s hand shot out and wrapped around his uninjured wrist. “Please don’t go,” Noct begged. 

Despite the revelation that this hadn’t actually been a deliberate suicide attempt, Noct didn’t feel any more at ease. While he was somewhat relieved to know that his best friend wasn’t trying to end his life, the relief didn’t feel the way he would have expected when it was clear Prompto was still hurting so much. He knew that holding him here wasn’t helping, if Prompto’s body language was anything to go by, but he couldn’t bear to let his friend walk out that door. Noct didn’t know how to balance Prompto’s wishes to keep this to himself with his own desire to help and make sure Prompto knew he wasn’t alone. 

Noct was broken from his jumble of conflicting thoughts when Prompto tried to lightly tug his wrist away. He looked up into his friend’s eyes and saw conflict there mirroring his own. But he couldn’t bring himself to let go, worried that letting him walk away would send the wrong message. What if pulling away from him now made Prompto think Noct didn’t care about him? If he allowed Prompto to walk out that door, what if he decided to keep on walking right out of Noct’s life? The thought was unbearable. Earlier today he wouldn’t have thought his relationship with his best friend was so tenuous, but after thinking for hours that Prompto tried to leave him behind and end his own life, he wasn’t sure how solid their friendship was anymore. After all, even if this wasn’t what he’d thought it was, there was still clearly something bothering Prompto, but he seemed to have no intention of letting Noct help. What kind of friendship was that?

Meanwhile, Prompto was struggling with similar thoughts. He knew he should give Noct more credit than to think he’d turn on him the moment he knew the truth. But after the devastating words from his mother, he was hesitant to find out for sure. Even if Cor didn’t have a problem with him being friends with Noct, Noct was his own person, and Gladio and Ignis might have objections of their own if they knew. 

“Please stay,” Noct broke the silence. “You….you don’t have to say anything. Just don’t go. I don’t know what you think is so awful you can’t tell me, but I still don’t want you to go,” he finished softly. 

“I’m from Niflheim,” Prompto blurted after a moment of silence, eyes squeezed shut, afraid to see everyone’s faces. 

If he’d kept his eyes open, he would have seen it was mainly confusion on all their faces. None of them were sure how to respond to the outburst, as out of the blue as it was. Noct dropped his hand away from Prompto’s wrist. Unfortunately, Prompto took the act as symbolic and turned to rush for the door again. Surely none of them actually wanted him to stay at this point. 

Just as he reached for the door, he heard Noct call out desperately, “And?”

Freezing in place, Prompto answered, “And I figured you don’t want me here anymore. I get it. Not even my parents want me.” He heard the collective intake of breath at his words. “Apparently I’m just some Niff lab experiment,” he admitted, holding up his injured wrist. “That’s where the barcode came from. I never knew until Cor told me today,” he continued, in too deep to stop now, the words coming in a rush. “But it’s always been there, marking what I really am. I just wanted it gone…” he trailed off, voice finally breaking at the tears he could no longer contain. 

“Shit, kid,” Gladio said. “I can’t speak for these two, but I don’t care about any of that.”

Noct chimed in, “Neither do I. You’re my friend, no matter where you’re from.”

“I admit I’m still quite curious, but I must reiterate that you are like a brother to us and your origins do nothing to change that fact,” Ignis replied. 

The weight off Prompto’s mind almost knocked him off his feet, but he had to be sure before he could truly relax. “Really?” he asked in a small voice. “You don’t think I’m a freak or something?” He still felt like some kind of mutant. The fingers on his left hand absently moved to linger on his bandages again, but he made a conscious effort not to let his thoughts run away from him on that idea. That in itself was going to be a long, uphill battle.

“You’re exactly the same person you were five minutes ago,” Noct told him, putting his mind at ease at last. “My friend. You don’t ever have to worry about that. I’m sorry you ever thought you did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and for all the love along the way! Please leave a comment if you have the time, it means a lot to me. 
> 
> Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! All kudos/bookmarks/comments/etc are super appreciated, they help keep me going so much <3
> 
> I finally got around to making a tumblr but it's sad and lonely and empty at this point lol, hopefully that changes soon. I'll be posting my new works to there as well going forward. I'd really love to make some friends in the fandom, so feel free to start up a conversation :D
> 
> https://zoewiloh.tumblr.com/


End file.
